Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense

Angela Campbell

A division of HarperCollins
Publishers

www.harpercollins.co.uk

I read my first romance at 16 and immediately attempted to write one, too. Many attempts (and a couple of decades) later, I finally published my first novel. A mild-mannered newspaper reporter with more than 15 years experience as a general assignment reporter, features editor and graphic designer, I have also worked as a production assistant in TV and film. I now live in the Southeast with my rescue cat. Learn more about my books at www.angelacampbellonline.com.

For my niece, Brittney, who has always made one heck of a ghost-hunting sidekick. And for my brother, David, who forced me to watch horror films as a child. Thank you both for sharing my love of a good ghost story. This one is for you guys.

She’d only been at the restaurant five minutes and already a freaking ghost had zeroed in on her.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Alexandra King jerked her gaze away from the tall man in the corner near the bar—the one wearing a double-breasted black coat with a gray vest underneath—and drummed her fingers against the table top as she waited for her waitress to bring her a bowl of she-crab soup and Caesar salad. The white cotton shirt the man wore was too long for his arms and erupted in ruffles at his wrists. His hair curled below a low Derby hat, and he looked as real as any flesh-and-blood man in this place.

Except for the bloody gash at his throat.

She couldn’t help it. She risked another glimpse in his direction. Still watching her, the dead man tipped his hat and winked at her.

Pushing out of her chair, Alexandra shoved her way through the small crowd of people gathered for a Wednesday evening outing at the Southend Brewery and Smokehouse in historic Charleston, South Carolina, and headed toward the sign marked Restrooms.

This stylish specter made about the tenth dead person she’d seen since checking into her room at the inn forty minutes ago. Thankfully none had shown more than a passing interest in her…so far.

She glanced over her shoulder to see if this ghost was going to make a pest of himself. He didn’t seem to be following. Good.

Derby Hat Guy was behind the bar now, pouring himself a draft, unseen by the bartender shuffling around him. Stifling a chuckle, she ducked her head and pretended to find the floor interesting. She’d learned long ago that if she ignored dead people, nine times out of ten, they would do the same. It was the ones who didn’t that gave her headaches as they chipped away at her mental barrier, made her lose sleep, and do stupid stuff like fly hundreds of miles to hunt down a person she didn’t know.

A vibration against her right hip distracted her, and she dug her phone out of her pocket. Glancing at the caller ID, a smile tugged at her lips as she saw her newest—and possibly closest—friend’s picture on the display. She leaned against the wall outside the ladies room and focused on the call.

“Hey, Hannah. Did you get my text?” She’d sent a quick one as soon as she’d landed to let her friend know she had arrived safely.

“Yep. You made it there okay? No problems with the flight or getting checked into the hotel?”

“The flight was surprisingly easy, and the place you chose for me to stay at is incredible. More like an apartment than a hotel.” Much better than the dumps where she usually stayed anyway. It had been her fortune, meeting Hannah Dawson three months ago. Not only was the woman richer than sin but she had a generous heart that extended to her friends and anyone she assessed had a dire need.

In this case, that had included Alexandra on both counts.

“Good. I wish I’d been able to come with you. You’re doing me as much of a favor as yourself.” Hannah’s voice lowered a notch. “Zach is still being stubborn.”

Alexandra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. When wasn’t Zachary Collins stubborn?

She’d come to appreciate just how pigheaded the man was when she accepted a job working for him at his private security and investigations agency a few months ago.

The steady paycheck was hella nice, and she loved using her gifts as a psychic medium to help people. Already she’d assisted a family in finding their runaway daughter and helped a desperate single mother locate the good-for-nothing ex-husband who owed her thousands in child support.

Dead people could be so full of useful information.

But she and Zach had butted heads more than once—usually over the fact he refused to use their resources to track down his younger brother and make amends for something—what, she had no idea.

None of her business. She got that. She was
fine
with that. She would’ve stayed fine with it, but Zach’s dead mother had taken up residence in Alexandra’s new apartment and refused to leave until her two sons had been reunited. Every time Alexandra lowered her guard, oh look, there was Rebecca Collins again, harping on about her sons. Zachary this. Dylan that. Nag, nag, nag.

Stupid ghost was driving her
insane
.

“Yeah, well, tenacity must run in the Collins family,” Alexandra told Hannah. “I’ve been trying for weeks to get his mom to cross over, or at least get the heck outta my apartment. She doesn’t listen either.”

Hannah snorted. “I’d believe it. Once Zach gets an idea in his head, he doesn’t let go.”

“Still pestering you to move in with him, huh?”

“Yes.” Hannah drew the word out on a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not even that I don’t want to. It’s like I’ve told you before. I am crazy about the man, but we need to get to know each other better before we both dive into the deep end. Plus, I’d feel better if he patched things up with his brother first. I know it’s important to him, even if he won’t admit it.”

“Hopefully, the lead that Spider got for us will pan out.” Alexandra twirled the ends of her long blonde hair between two fingers. Two guys at the bar hadn’t even noticed yet that the bar’s friendly spirit had switched their drinks while they’d been distracted checking out the female bartender. Oh my. This was a mischievous ole fellow. “If Dylan Collins is in Charleston like Spider thinks, I’ll find him.”

The young female hacker Zach had hired to bring his security firm into the twenty-first century had become everyone on the team’s “little sister.” She was wicked smart and had tracked Zach’s brother from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, to Charleston, South Carolina, in under ten minutes. Spider would have probably given them a phone number and address if Alexandra hadn’t opened her mouth to ask what the heck that weird action figure was on Spider’s desk. It looked like a demonic wild boar on steroids, wearing spikes and armor. Creepy.

Alexandra rolled her eyes at the memory. After a lecture about how awesome the Guild Wars online game was, Spider had been offended enough not to offer any more help in the matter.

Annoying little sister, more like it.

So here Alexandra was, voluntarily in one of the most haunted cities in America, surrounded by freaking dead people, with no idea where to start looking for Zach’s little brother.

“Is, um, Rebecca with you?” Hannah’s question about Zach’s mother drew her back to their conversation.

Alexandra sighed. “Haven’t seen her since I boarded the plane. She’ll pop up. She always does. Hopefully she’ll point me in the right direction so I can get this over and done with.”

She’d kind of been counting on Zach’s mother to manifest and lead her the rest of the way to the mysterious Dylan Collins. The fact it hadn’t happened yet was pissing her off. She’d left herself open to communication with Rebecca, which also left her vulnerable to any ghost, spirit or whatever in search of a conduit between dimensions.

If she didn’t show soon, Alexandra was flipping her mental Open sign over to Closed.

After promising to check in with Hannah with frequent updates, Alexandra ended the call and washed her hands to give herself an excuse for visiting the ladies room. She was a little hungry and a lot tired after her evening flight.

She hadn’t mentioned it to Hannah, but she’d also been uneasy since touching ground in Charleston. The feeling had intensified the closer she’d gotten to her hotel. She’d never seen anything like the spiral gray beams whirling up toward the skyline from what she assumed was the city’s historic district. She’d never encountered so many ghosts so quickly in such a small area either. Not even when she’d lived in Germany, where ghosts were
everywhere
. A heavy, sick weight had sunk into her stomach, manifesting a mild headache as she’d watched the beams wave and shimmer against the setting sun. This city felt…unhealthy.

Or she could be feeling ill because she’d skipped lunch. She hoped that was the reason. Hopefully a decent meal and a good night’s sleep would right things.

This place had been highly recommended by the desk clerk at the inn, or she might have opted for junk food out of a machine and called it an early night. She rubbed her eyes and blinked them open again, only to see the man in the Derby hat standing directly behind her, grinning like the Cheshire cat. He lifted a finger and pointed at her in the mirror.

“Ya can see me, can’t ya?”

Crap.

A woman came out of the stall behind her, so Alexandra kept her mouth shut and made a quick escape. Maybe if she kept ignoring him —

“I don’t mean ya any harm.” The Derby Hat Guy followed her back to her table and took the seat opposite her just as the waitress appeared with her food. “I hear the food here is delicious. I know the brew is!” He lifted his mug and chugged back several gulps. The bloody gash at his neck shifted with every swallow. Since the mug gave off a slight orange glow, Alexandra knew it wasn’t visible to anyone else. Ghost mug. “Tell me, miss.” Reluctantly, she looked his way. “How can a pretty little thing like yer’self see me when no’un else can?”

Alexandra kept her mouth busy, pushing spoonful after spoonful of soup between her lips, avoiding eye contact as best she could. Sometimes she forgot she was in public and launched into a full-fledged conversation with her unseen visitors, but she had no plans of doing so now. Nuh uh. No way. The place wasn’t overly crowded, but there were enough people around to notice if she suddenly started talking to The Invisible Man.

But maybe this guy didn’t know he was dead. Maybe he needed her help crossing over.

Maybe —

Stop it! Don’t engage him. He’s not the reason you’re here.

As the man rambled about the dress of the men and women around them—“Woo-wee! Ain’t ever seen the likes! She’s practically wearin’ nothin’! Would ya look at that?”—Alexandra finished her salad, quietly amused by his observations. He was a chatty fellow, and if she had spoken, she doubted she could get a word in edgewise. Seeing he wasn’t going away, she began to study him as he yakked. She’d guess he was in his late thirties, maybe early forties. Lanky. Not overly handsome, but not a dog either. Kind of reminded her of that guy who’d played the Doctor on that British show Hannah had been making her watch. Oh, what was his name? David Tennant. That was it. Except this guy wasn’t the least bit British.

Where was Zachery’s mom, Rebecca? She might get on quite well with this character—being that they were both highly obnoxious and all. Perhaps she could hook them up in the afterlife and give the dead woman someone else to nag for a change.

“It must be your lucky night, hon.” A woman’s voice drew her attention.

Alexandra blinked up at her waitress as the young woman slid a mug of beer in front of her. Did the girl seriously just call her hon?

The redhead nodded over her shoulder. “The hunk at the pool tables bought you a drink.” She winked. “Enjoy.”

Oh, no. Not only were the dead people around here clamoring for her attention, so was some a-hole on the prowl. She bit back a groan and lifted her gaze to give the man a polite shake of her head, a silent thanks but no thanks and –

Hello, Mr. Delicious.

He was hands-down the most criminally sexy man she’d ever laid eyes on, and for a woman who worked with some serious man candy these days that was saying a lot. He studied her from the billiards area as he chalked up one of the cues. He was the only person over there, playing a solitary game while most people congregated at the bar. A slight smile teased his mouth as she managed to lift the mug and nod. So what if she hated beer? She’d gulp the whole thing in one go if that sex god wanted to watch. He nodded back, gestured to the pool table beside him, and—

Oh, yeah. She was tempted to saunter over there and see what happened. Beyond tempted. She’d never had a one-night stand in her life, but maybe this was as good a time as any.

“Well, I’ll be! He sure seems to have struck yer fancy.”

Oh, no. She scrunched her brows and shook her head. She had a bad feeling about this.

The ghost wooped. “Oh, but I think he has.” He glanced toward the billiards. “And I dare say he has taken quite a fancy to you, miss. Comes in here a lot that one does. Never been able to spook ‘em though.” Derby Hat Guy abruptly stood and started walking toward the other man, saying, “Let’s give ‘em a game. Have a bit of fun with the rascal.” He rubbed his hands together.

“Wait! Uh,” Alexandra jumped to her feet and realized a few seconds later she was practically on top of the pool table when Mr. Delicious said, amused, “Whoa now. I’m guessing you like a good game of pool?”

Among other things.

She bit her lip and tried to ignore the ghost bent over the other end of the table, reaching for two of the balls that had been scattered near a corner pocket. She’d made this poor, delicious man a target of the ghost’s tomfoolery. Oh dear. She needed to fix this.

“Pool?” Her eyes widened when Derby Hat Guy picked up the white ball behind Mr. Delicious and moved it clearway across the table. There was no orange glow to it, which meant the ball had actually moved. Had anyone else seen that? This ghost was an old and smart one. Not many could move objects like that. “Yeah. Yeah, I love pool. Game on.” Leaning over, she slapped the green felt and flicked her fingers a few times toward the wall, trying to convey the message to Derby Hat Guy to get lost.

Mr. Delicious held out a cue stick to her in offering, distracting her from the ghost past his shoulder. “Great. We’ll start a new game. I was getting tired of losing to myself.” He looked her up and down where she leaned against the table and seemed to like what he saw. His smoldering blue eyes burned with heat so intense, she felt her insides ignite. He wriggled the cue in his hand. “You know how to use this thing?” His smile was kicked up to full charge on the suggestive meter.

Oh, my, he was flirting, and that was a game best played by two. Accepting the cue from him, Alexandra arched a brow and slowly ran a finger along its length. “I can handle a stick pretty good.” She pursed her lips, blew at the chalk on the end, and slowly batted her lashes when she looked at him again. “Besides, what woman doesn’t love to bust some balls every now and then?”